[{"id":25096098,"name":"Misunderstood","trackName":"Misunderstood","artistName":"Kendrick Lamar feat. Jay Rock","albumName":"C4","duration":284.008625,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Baby you understand me now\nIf sometimes you see that I'm mad\nDon't you know no one alive can always be an angel\nWhen everything goes wrong, you see some bad\nBut I'm just a soul whose intentions are good\nOh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\nAs soon as the beat drop\nWithin two bars, you already said I'm hot\nThey savor, my fruits of labor\nMy flow is sweeter than strawberries, oranges, and apricots\nGod-dammit I raised the standards of the status-quo\nTo go against me you gotta be more than professional\nYou got to go extra hard like an erection with no protection\nAnd I be fucking all these bars\nWe be sexing I'm a nympho\nFor the instrumentals, all right, I admit it\nMatter of fact I got a hot date tonight, real rap\nTake this and take that from the machine\nGot this money up, with no caffeine\nPrepare me is Kerosene struck by a bolt of lightening\nYou looking at me then you're sight seeing\nAnd what that means is that this human being is fly, don't try to duplicate\nI'm authentic, I see you scoping my style like forensics, that is foul\nTech! Leave 'em by the benches\n\nI'm just a soul whose intentions are good\nOh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\nI see the future better than your computers\nApple software got the next 10 years scared I'm Fred Krueger\nRugers on my hip, terminate all intruders\nLeave them dead inside the sewers\nShoulda' coulda' knew I was a murderer\nBurning up the very sun, the rapture\nThe god is back, they said he'd come, but I came faster\nI'm not an actor, if you play Denzel, you'll be thrown through a windshield\nThe 9 milli' is handheld, the AK is hands-on\nNow the battlefield I can land on one thousand mines and don't blow up because I'm the bomb\nInside your CD deck, duck for cover, guard your neck, I demand respect\nIf I never see a check, at least I got these rap niggas in check\nPreach Tabernacle fetch the holy bible if I'm lying\nKing of my jungle, swear to remain humble, keep my vision tunnel\nBecause I don't need to get sidetracked, my producer name is Sounwave and he gives me beats by the batch\n\nI'm just a soul whose intentions are good\nOh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\nMy flow cold, like Aspen\nI love to show off when I'm in that Aston\nLook I act a ass, but I'm not jack\nA east side nigga I can get you popped at\nA hundred rounds nigga stop that\nYou can't make that ass sit or flip-flop back\nI'm too gutta nigga top that\nThis is lyrical homicide, not rap\nSo don't get it misunderstood\nSay my name on your bars, shit I'm in your hood\nWith 45 goons 45 shugs\nChase your ass upstairs throw you of your roof\nI see you big dogs, all I hear is woof\nLoud talk, no bite, you niggas is puss\nI'm off that bubble kush, thinking about life\nOr how to make a mill and spend it all in one night\nI just might...\n\n...Snatch your bitch if she got a great appetite\nFor the top dog catalog, that means everybody\nSeveral bodies on the shoty don't make it eight rappers\nDamn I hate rappers, don't call me that\nIf you called it how you seen it you would call me real rap\nI don't fabricate shit, all I do is keep it real\nEat, sleep, and take shits wipe me down if you will\nHold up, big truck, lurkin' with the monster grill\nFour fifteens I got beat like Emmett Till\nPut me in my g-mode schooling every hot-head\nTell them about the g-code, like eskimos\nMy arms froze, popsicle\nObserving the game, I'm so official","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Misunderstood\n  artist: Kendrick Lamar feat. Jay Rock\n  album: C4\n  duration_ms: 284009\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Baby you understand me now\n  If sometimes you see that I'm mad\n  Don't you know no one alive can always be an angel\n  When everything goes wrong, you see some bad\n  But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good\n  Oh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\n  As soon as the beat drop\n  Within two bars, you already said I'm hot\n  They savor, my fruits of labor\n  My flow is sweeter than strawberries, oranges, and apricots\n  God-dammit I raised the standards of the status-quo\n  To go against me you gotta be more than professional\n  You got to go extra hard like an erection with no protection\n  And I be fucking all these bars\n  We be sexing I'm a nympho\n  For the instrumentals, all right, I admit it\n  Matter of fact I got a hot date tonight, real rap\n  Take this and take that from the machine\n  Got this money up, with no caffeine\n  Prepare me is Kerosene struck by a bolt of lightening\n  You looking at me then you're sight seeing\n  And what that means is that this human being is fly, don't try to duplicate\n  I'm authentic, I see you scoping my style like forensics, that is foul\n  Tech! Leave 'em by the benches\n\n  I'm just a soul whose intentions are good\n  Oh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\n  I see the future better than your computers\n  Apple software got the next 10 years scared I'm Fred Krueger\n  Rugers on my hip, terminate all intruders\n  Leave them dead inside the sewers\n  Shoulda' coulda' knew I was a murderer\n  Burning up the very sun, the rapture\n  The god is back, they said he'd come, but I came faster\n  I'm not an actor, if you play Denzel, you'll be thrown through a windshield\n  The 9 milli' is handheld, the AK is hands-on\n  Now the battlefield I can land on one thousand mines and don't blow up because I'm the bomb\n  Inside your CD deck, duck for cover, guard your neck, I demand respect\n  If I never see a check, at least I got these rap niggas in check\n  Preach Tabernacle fetch the holy bible if I'm lying\n  King of my jungle, swear to remain humble, keep my vision tunnel\n  Because I don't need to get sidetracked, my producer name is Sounwave and he gives me beats by the batch\n\n  I'm just a soul whose intentions are good\n  Oh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\n  My flow cold, like Aspen\n  I love to show off when I'm in that Aston\n  Look I act a ass, but I'm not jack\n  A east side nigga I can get you popped at\n  A hundred rounds nigga stop that\n  You can't make that ass sit or flip-flop back\n  I'm too gutta nigga top that\n  This is lyrical homicide, not rap\n  So don't get it misunderstood\n  Say my name on your bars, shit I'm in your hood\n  With 45 goons 45 shugs\n  Chase your ass upstairs throw you of your roof\n  I see you big dogs, all I hear is woof\n  Loud talk, no bite, you niggas is puss\n  I'm off that bubble kush, thinking about life\n  Or how to make a mill and spend it all in one night\n  I just might...\n\n  ...Snatch your bitch if she got a great appetite\n  For the top dog catalog, that means everybody\n  Several bodies on the shoty don't make it eight rappers\n  Damn I hate rappers, don't call me that\n  If you called it how you seen it you would call me real rap\n  I don't fabricate shit, all I do is keep it real\n  Eat, sleep, and take shits wipe me down if you will\n  Hold up, big truck, lurkin' with the monster grill\n  Four fifteens I got beat like Emmett Till\n  Put me in my g-mode schooling every hot-head\n  Tell them about the g-code, like eskimos\n  My arms froze, popsicle\n  Observing the game, I'm so official\n"},{"id":24451570,"name":"Misunderstood","trackName":"Misunderstood","artistName":"Kendrick Lamar feat. Jay Rock","albumName":"C4","duration":243.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Baby you understand me now\nIf sometimes you see that I'm mad\nDon't you know no one alive can always be an angel\nWhen everything goes wrong, you see some bad\nBut I'm just a soul whose intentions are good\nOh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\nAs soon as the beat drop\nWithin two bars, you already said I'm hot\nThey savor, my fruits of labor\nMy flow is sweeter than strawberries, oranges, and apricots\nGod-dammit I raised the standards of the status-quo\nTo go against me you gotta be more than professional\nYou got to go extra hard like an erection with no protection\nAnd I be fucking all these bars\nWe be sexing I'm a nympho\nFor the instrumentals, all right, I admit it\nMatter of fact I got a hot date tonight, real rap\nTake this and take that from the machine\nGot this money up, with no caffeine\nPrepare me is Kerosene struck by a bolt of lightening\nYou looking at me then you're sight seeing\nAnd what that means is that this human being is fly, don't try to duplicate\nI'm authentic, I see you scoping my style like forensics, that is foul\nTech! Leave 'em by the benches\n\nI'm just a soul whose intentions are good\nOh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\nI see the future better than your computers\nApple software got the next 10 years scared I'm Fred Krueger\nRugers on my hip, terminate all intruders\nLeave them dead inside the sewers\nShoulda' coulda' knew I was a murderer\nBurning up the very sun, the rapture\nThe god is back, they said he'd come, but I came faster\nI'm not an actor, if you play Denzel, you'll be thrown through a windshield\nThe 9 milli' is handheld, the AK is hands-on\nNow the battlefield I can land on one thousand mines and don't blow up because I'm the bomb\nInside your CD deck, duck for cover, guard your neck, I demand respect\nIf I never see a check, at least I got these rap niggas in check\nPreach Tabernacle fetch the holy bible if I'm lying\nKing of my jungle, swear to remain humble, keep my vision tunnel\nBecause I don't need to get sidetracked, my producer name is Sounwave and he gives me beats by the batch\n\nI'm just a soul whose intentions are good\nOh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\nMy flow cold, like Aspen\nI love to show off when I'm in that Aston\nLook I act a ass, but I'm not jack\nA east side nigga I can get you popped at\nA hundred rounds nigga stop that\nYou can't make that ass sit or flip-flop back\nI'm too gutta nigga top that\nThis is lyrical homicide, not rap\nSo don't get it misunderstood\nSay my name on your bars, shit I'm in your hood\nWith 45 goons 45 shugs\nChase your ass upstairs throw you of your roof\nI see you big dogs, all I hear is woof\nLoud talk, no bite, you niggas is puss\nI'm off that bubble kush, thinking about life\nOr how to make a mill and spend it all in one night\nI just might...\n\n...Snatch your bitch if she got a great appetite\nFor the top dog catalog, that means everybody\nSeveral bodies on the shoty don't make it eight rappers\nDamn I hate rappers, don't call me that\nIf you called it how you seen it you would call me real rap\nI don't fabricate shit, all I do is keep it real\nEat, sleep, and take shits wipe me down if you will\nHold up, big truck, lurkin' with the monster grill\nFour fifteens I got beat like Emmett Till\nPut me in my g-mode schooling every hot-head\nTell them about the g-code, like eskimos\nMy arms froze, popsicle\nObserving the game, I'm so official","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Misunderstood\n  artist: Kendrick Lamar feat. Jay Rock\n  album: C4\n  duration_ms: 243000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Baby you understand me now\n  If sometimes you see that I'm mad\n  Don't you know no one alive can always be an angel\n  When everything goes wrong, you see some bad\n  But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good\n  Oh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\n  As soon as the beat drop\n  Within two bars, you already said I'm hot\n  They savor, my fruits of labor\n  My flow is sweeter than strawberries, oranges, and apricots\n  God-dammit I raised the standards of the status-quo\n  To go against me you gotta be more than professional\n  You got to go extra hard like an erection with no protection\n  And I be fucking all these bars\n  We be sexing I'm a nympho\n  For the instrumentals, all right, I admit it\n  Matter of fact I got a hot date tonight, real rap\n  Take this and take that from the machine\n  Got this money up, with no caffeine\n  Prepare me is Kerosene struck by a bolt of lightening\n  You looking at me then you're sight seeing\n  And what that means is that this human being is fly, don't try to duplicate\n  I'm authentic, I see you scoping my style like forensics, that is foul\n  Tech! Leave 'em by the benches\n\n  I'm just a soul whose intentions are good\n  Oh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\n  I see the future better than your computers\n  Apple software got the next 10 years scared I'm Fred Krueger\n  Rugers on my hip, terminate all intruders\n  Leave them dead inside the sewers\n  Shoulda' coulda' knew I was a murderer\n  Burning up the very sun, the rapture\n  The god is back, they said he'd come, but I came faster\n  I'm not an actor, if you play Denzel, you'll be thrown through a windshield\n  The 9 milli' is handheld, the AK is hands-on\n  Now the battlefield I can land on one thousand mines and don't blow up because I'm the bomb\n  Inside your CD deck, duck for cover, guard your neck, I demand respect\n  If I never see a check, at least I got these rap niggas in check\n  Preach Tabernacle fetch the holy bible if I'm lying\n  King of my jungle, swear to remain humble, keep my vision tunnel\n  Because I don't need to get sidetracked, my producer name is Sounwave and he gives me beats by the batch\n\n  I'm just a soul whose intentions are good\n  Oh lord please don't let me be misunderstood\n\n  My flow cold, like Aspen\n  I love to show off when I'm in that Aston\n  Look I act a ass, but I'm not jack\n  A east side nigga I can get you popped at\n  A hundred rounds nigga stop that\n  You can't make that ass sit or flip-flop back\n  I'm too gutta nigga top that\n  This is lyrical homicide, not rap\n  So don't get it misunderstood\n  Say my name on your bars, shit I'm in your hood\n  With 45 goons 45 shugs\n  Chase your ass upstairs throw you of your roof\n  I see you big dogs, all I hear is woof\n  Loud talk, no bite, you niggas is puss\n  I'm off that bubble kush, thinking about life\n  Or how to make a mill and spend it all in one night\n  I just might...\n\n  ...Snatch your bitch if she got a great appetite\n  For the top dog catalog, that means everybody\n  Several bodies on the shoty don't make it eight rappers\n  Damn I hate rappers, don't call me that\n  If you called it how you seen it you would call me real rap\n  I don't fabricate shit, all I do is keep it real\n  Eat, sleep, and take shits wipe me down if you will\n  Hold up, big truck, lurkin' with the monster grill\n  Four fifteens I got beat like Emmett Till\n  Put me in my g-mode schooling every hot-head\n  Tell them about the g-code, like eskimos\n  My arms froze, popsicle\n  Observing the game, I'm so official\n"}]